Into the Catacombs
Log Title: Into the Catacombs Characters: Ar-Gent Silverfinger, Stormfront (Tracker) Location: Palace Catacombs; Death Trap Date: August 24, 2019 TP: King of Cats TP Summary: With Soundwave and Imager rescued, Stormfront searches for his lost dog, Tracker. Category:2019 Category:Logs Category:King of Cats TP As logged by '' Ar-Gent Silverfinger '''Log session starting at 18:30:28 on Saturday, 24 August 2019.' The catacombs below the palace are dimly lit at best, frequently dark for long stretches. Tunnels curve and crisscross, wandering through the stone seemingly at random. Water trickles across the floor from above, pooling in places before continuing in a new direction. Stormfront is not alone down here. The white apes shuffle through the tunnels, fleeing the spray of water and the scraplets above. Other figures dart through the tunnels as well, figures that seem to know how to find their way. Stormfront moves swiftly through the catacombs to find Tracker. His expression mostly blank. So far a straight line has clearly not been the way to find his friend. And he's not sure about bashing his way through." Nobody has attacked Stormfront yet. As the white apes flee farther, the stone falls quiet except for the water that still trickles. Stormfront keeps following the feel he has, mapping the new tunnels so that he doesn't double back too much. A frown appearing on his face. Eventually, the tunnels rise back up enough in the direction Stormfront is headed that he's on dry footing again. There are some dead ends along the way. Or, at least, they look like dead ends. Stormfront grumbles as he has to go back a few times still. He feels for Tracker and makes a face when he keeps coming up no closer than he was before. GAME: Stormfront FAILS an INTELLIGENCE roll of Very High difficulty. The maze-like passages are bewildering down here. No signs, no markings on the walls. Stormfront grumbles as he moves, half tripping as he moves, he tries to get a feel for the area, extending out his forcefield to try and find voids or perhaps stuff he can't see. The searching forcefield doesn't knock against anything cloaked or invisible, but it does sweep dust in front of it as it pushes across the floor and walls. Thick dust, here. Stormfront sighs at the thick dust. "Goin the wrong way ain't I...unless they've got their own way to go...dammit. Think Dusty....." The empty tunnels have no advice for Stormfront. Stormfront is getting frustrated at this point. And while he might not have been as damaged as the Decepticons earlier, he still has some damage. And that's also starting to wear on him. There has to be a way to find Tracker. He pauses for a moment and tries to reach Tracker. Perhaps the mutt could give him a hint as to how to get through this. Or...if he should literally charge up the plasma cannon and go THROUGH the walls. He finally calls out. "Why don't you just let me get my dog and get out of here. Everyone stays in one piece and I don't trash your basement." Stormfront's words echo back and forth. Nobody shows up to answer him. A few of the lights overhead flicker slightly. None of them are all the way back in this dead end. Stormfront stops and kneels slightly, He's missing something and he's got to figure this out. Running around will be just too enjoyable for his foe. No traps, no monsters...this isn't exactly what he was expecting. Junkions want to be amused and he's not amusing them." If only Stormfront knew of the dramatic presentation awaiting him. But, for now, it merely waits. GAME: Stormfront PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Very High difficulty. It's a little strange, really, that only parts of the tunnels are lit. Disconnected parts. But it makes for a lot of dramatic shadows. Stormfront visibly rolls his optics. Getting back to his feet he goes toward the lit sections and plans on looking around the lit part thoroughly while also making a point to check the deepest shadows for anything hidden. GAME: Stormfront PASSES a DEXTERITY roll of High difficulty. As might be expected, it isn't until Stormfront searches the deepest shadows, fingers trailing the walls, that they hook against a crack. A crack that is free of dust, that goes in a straight line to the ground, and is matched by another one maybe seven feet away. It's in a dark stretch of relatively straight corridor, the only lights at the intersections in the distance. Stormfront pushes open the door and begins his way forward. He gets a little more apprehensive especially if it opens too easily. So inside he goes. The door sticks a bit initially, as tightly as it's fitted, but as soon as it clears the first inch or so, it swings more easily. It opens up to a room that's dimly lit from below with shifting, flickering light. Death Trap Here we have a classic death trap- rickety cages made from dubious bits of bone and metal riveted together are suspended by old, rusted chains over a bubbling pit of some kind of fulminous, caustic liquid. A thin walkway with no guard rails crosses the middle of the pit, while there's a ledge around the whole of the round room that's just big enough for a larger Cybertronian to perch unsteadily. At one end of the room is a balcony with a set of levers for raising and lowering the cages. The liquid beneath glows. No other light currently crawls across the room, which means that the figure on the balcony high on the other side of the room is cast into sinister shadow, a faint gleam on the silver fingers that clasp the railing, a shine from a single optic looking down at the Autobot that has finally found his way into this room. Tracker is in one of the cages, just low enough to be visible from the entrance, but high enough to be out of reach for the average cybertronian from the narrow walkways and ledges beneath. Stormfront moves foward but doesn't dare step a foot into that liquid. He glances around and then focus' on the mech. "I apologize fer any confusion, but you have my dog. I'm here ta claim him and go home...if you'll let me. With a snap of his fingers, recessed lights brighten the room enough for Ar-Gent Silverfinger to be clearly seen. "What, just like that? You just got here." He paces on the balcony. "I rather expected you sooner, if I'm honest. Days sooner. Did it take so long to miss your pup?" He picks up a small, fluffy kitten from the ground and pets it with a finger. Stormfront grumbles, "I didn't expect to be held up." Tracker is now fully aware. He is standing and his tail is wagging but he's remaining quiet. "I am here now. And the others got what they wanted. So....if you would, may I take him back?" Ar-Gent Silverfinger leans on the balcony railing, chin on one hand. "Oh, come on. Where's the spark? Not even a 'you fiend'?" He stands and goes to the levers at the back of the balcony area. "Well, I guess I'll forge ahead myself, then. Take him back, if you dare!" He pulls one of the levers, and the cage with Tracker begins to descend towards the glowing liquid below. Stormfront says, "Aw Slag...really?!" he moves and leaps to one of the nearest cages to try and find a path to get to Tracker's cage. "Something happens to him and you will NOT like what happens."" Ar-Gent Silverfinger laughs. "That's more like it! Let's make this a -real- challenge!" And he throws the other levers, all the cages moving now, sinking. "Tick, tock!" A pause to pet the cat that's made its way up to his shoulder now. GAME: Stormfront PASSES an AGILITY roll of Extreme difficulty. Stormfront starts to really move. The years of free running and parkour allow him to nimbly jump from cage to cage. But he purposely runs and leaps to Tracker's cage and tries to get it to swing out. His other hand reaches out to grab the next cage in the hopes of protecting his friend. All the cages are sinking, but the speed is, of course, slow enough to allow for a dramatic rescue. Instant death? That would be cheating! Tracker's cage swings easily, the bars creaking. It looks and feels like it would fall apart in a strong breeze, but it hasn't disintegrated under Stormfront's weight yet. Stormfront tries to snap the cage open so that Tracker can get out. He struggles to keep his balance and not dump them both into the acid. He glances up at Argent, "You could come down and help me....Couldn't you?" Ar-Gent Silverfinger claps his hands with delight. "I -could-! But then you wouldn't have a challenge to rise against. And to take that away would be simply unbearable. I couldn't do that to you." GAME: Stormfront PASSES a STRENGTH roll of Average difficulty. Fortunately for Stormfront -and- Tracker, Stormfront manages to snap one of the bars without breaking the cage from the chain it's attached to. The ragged door swings loose on its hinges. Stormfront keeps swinging and struggles to keep it controlled. Tracker himself has been quiet and calm, feeding off of Stormfront's behavior. A smile appears on Stormfront's face when he gets the cage to start popping open. "Thatsa boy Tracker! We can do it! " Ar-Gent Silverfinger chuckles. "And the touching reunion, at last. But now you have to escape!" He draws a gold colored gun and points it at the Autobot and his Dog. "You're quick, but are you quick enough to dodge bullets?" Stormfront says, "Tracker JUMP!" He holds the cage still so that his friend can get free. But now they have to move. He looks for the entrance that he came from, "Tracker! That way! Jump! Let's get out of here." Tracker barks happily now that he's free though he's still rather hungry." Ar-Gent Silverfinger aims carefully as his two guests attempt to get away before the cage plunges the rest of the way into the caustic glowing substance below. He fires a shot off. >> Ar-Gent Silverfinger strikes Stormfront with Golden-Gun . << Stormfront gets struck by the golden gun and starts to fall. He just barely catches one of the next cages, his foot skimming the acid as he swings to the safety of the real ground. "Ow...blast man! That hurt!" Ar-Gent Silverfinger grins menacingly. "It is -supposed- to hurt! It's a gun!" He aims it again. Stormfront winces and breaks into a run, trying to get to the door in time. He however then turns and fires at Ar-gent, purposely trying to not hit his kitten. It's mostly a scare tactic so he can get Tracker out. >> Stormfront strikes Ar-Gent Silverfinger with Pistol . << Ar-Gent Silverfinger gets winged in the arm. "Ouch!" He shoots a couple more times at Stormfront. "Take that!" The first shot is wild- obviously thrown off by the injury to his arm, of course. The second is aimed a bit better. >> Ar-Gent Silverfinger strikes Stormfront with Golden-Gun . << Stormfront is struck but focuses on trying to escape. "Tracker let's go! Hurry!" So let's get out of here! He dives for the door, really not wanting to be hit again. Fortunately for Stormfront and Tracker, Ar-Gent is the only other person in the room, and he's on a balcony nowhere near the door. There's nobody in the way, the door is still ajar, freedom is just on the other side of a terrible, dark maze with no signposts. Stormfront runs! He pauses in the doorway, "I won't trash the place on the way out if ya don't get too heavy with the weaponfire...Thanks fer not trashing Tracker." And with that he runs off. Ar-Gent Silverfinger harrumphs. "Cheeky." And he throws the levers to stop the dropping cages. No use destroying a perfectly good death trap! Log session ending at 23:16:19 on Saturday, 24 August 2019.